


The Demon and His Lover

by lilybeth84



Category: High School King of Savvy
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Consensual, Dom/sub Play, F/M, K-drama, Kdrama, Korean Characters, Korean Drama - Freeform, Light Bondage, Light Dom/sub, Romance, Sexual Content, Sexual Tension, Spanking, Yuletide
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-19
Updated: 2014-12-19
Packaged: 2018-03-02 06:19:21
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,519
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2802599
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lilybeth84/pseuds/lilybeth84
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>AU, In which Yoo Jin Woo and Jung Soo Young find their demons play well together. </p><p>Triggers Include: Spanking, Light bondage, Light Sub/Dom Play</p><p>Please note these are CONSENSUAL ACTS.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Demon and His Lover

**Author's Note:**

  * For [cinnaholic](https://archiveofourown.org/users/cinnaholic/gifts).



> Inspired by, and some plot and dialogue borrowed from, the film, _Secretary_ , written by Erin Cressida Wilson.  
> Written for Cinnaholic, Yuletide 2014.

_We are all searching for someone whose demons play well with ours._

\--Unknown

He slammed the door to his office shut, and flung himself into the chair behind his desk. Breathing heavily with anger and hurt, he pounded the desk with his fist until his knuckles throbbed with pain.

God damn his father, God damn him!

He saw her face again as he groveled at the feet of his father, a mixture of pity and sadness, and he wanted to hate her for it. He hated that she had seen him in such a state. Guilt washed over him and caused his heart to thump painfully against his ribs. While the reason was entirely new, the feeling wasn't. He was used to guilt. It followed him into every relationship, and out again, as each one failed.

And it wasn’t just his romantic relationships, because his secretary had just quit as well.

His father had made him feel ashamed most of his life. For being his mother’s son, for being his only child, for being born at all. He clenched his hands into fists as he thought back on the exchange he had had with him minutes ago. He had called his father cruel, pointing out his mother’s sacrifice for him.

Then he had done the exact thing to Soo Young as his father had done to his mother. She had expressed her care and concern for him, and he had scoffed at her, and used her for his own selfish means.  
He leaned back into his chair, glancing at the birthday card she had made him, standing open on his desk, the happy words mocking him. 

_“Don’t live like that, Yoo Jin Woo!”_

Her shaking voice had echoed in his head long after she had fled his apartment, angry, with tears streaming down her cheeks. He had sat and stared at the cake, listening to those words over and over again.

God, he was such a bastard.

The word rang in his head, reminding him that its meaning went deeper for him. He placed his face in his hands, feeling crushed and so desperately alone. He had to get out of there. He was halfway across the room when there was a knock on the door.

“What is it?” he snapped, immediately turning around and going back to his chair. Taking a deep breath he smoothed his hair with the flat of his palm. He started when he heard her timid voice. 

“Excuse me, Director, your secretary isn’t here and I have some forms for you to sign.” 

“Come in.” He stood as she entered. 

She kept her eyes down as she crossed the floor. It was only when she was right before him and held the forms out, she lifted her gaze and held his unwaveringly. He took the forms and flipped through them as she waited. As he flipped, he watched her through his lashes. She looked at her fingers, at the floor, and then her gaze fell on the birthday card and her head snapped up. He lifted his eyes to hers. 

“What?” he asked deliberately. 

“Nothing,” She shook her head. “Nothing.” 

He slapped the forms onto the desk. “I’ll sign them later.” 

She bowed, her braids swinging in front of her shoulders. As he watched her go, a feeling he couldn't pin down came over him. 

She was so confusing.

Most of the time he thought he knew who she was; a slightly odd woman with an even odder taste in clothing: Long skirts, ruffly blouses, and loafers with white socks, as though she were a school girl, and not a grown woman.

And those braids. How he hated those braids. He wanted to wrap them around his hand and— No, she was definitely not his type. She had confessed to him in the men’s restroom of all places…how could she have ever thought that was appropriate? She had made things awkward and uncomfortable—and yet he couldn’t dismiss her.

He signed the forms, feeling calmer and less anxious. Then he turned off his laptop and grabbed his coat and went home to his wine and music, the two things he knew would always be there for him. 

 

The following morning she was sitting at the desk outside his door. He stopped abruptly, unsure of what to do. When she caught sight of him, she stood and nervously smoothed down the front of her skirt more times than necessary.

“What are you doing here?”

She cleared her throat and pushed her glasses up her nose. “Your father asked to borrow me. He said you needed a new secretary, so I’m here until a new one can be found.”

Jin Woo stared. His father? When did his father have anything to do with his business?

“What about Director Lee?”

She looked directly into his eyes. “He’s away on a long business trip. Besides, he doesn’t need me as much as you do.”

Her words burned him and his breath caught in his throat. He gripped his briefcase tightly as though it might help quell his anxiety. It didn’t.

“I see.”

She gestured to a neat stack of papers on the desk before her. “I have the documents ready for your ten o’clock meeting with the executive board members, and a lunch reservation for you and Mr. Kim at one o’clock."

He nodded stiffly and went into his office. Only after he had shut the door, he let out the breath he’d been holding. With shaking hands, he took out a few Xanax and washed them down with the bottle of water that had been placed on his desk, just within reach. He stopped. He had not placed it there. 

Soo Young. 

He glanced up at her shadow through the frosted glass, and suddenly became aware of her nails clicking softly against the keys as she typed. He listened for a moment and then she sniffed. 

_Click, click, click, click, sniff._

Then again. Like clockwork. 

Those nails would have to go.

He returned from his lunch appointment to find her slouched over, her shoes kicked off under the desk, stocking clad toes wriggling as she stared at the computer screen. He scrunched his nose at the sight of her feet. He cleared his throat and she jumped up, startled, knocking her water glass over, the liquid spreading across the glass desk and dripping onto the floor.

“Oh!” She grabbed her sweater off the back of her chair and used it to mop up the spilt water instead running to get a towel like any other person would.

He sighed and went to get a towel from the kitchen. When he returned, she was still attempting to soak up more water with her sodden sweater. Instead of helping, she was just pushing it around.

“Here,” he said shortly. “Don’t use your clothes for something so dirty.”

She bowed. “Yes, Director.”

“And put on your shoes. This is an office, not your home.”

“Yes, Director.”

“And when you are finished, come into the office. I need to…speak with you.”

She paused, but then bowed again. Not waiting for her to say “Yes, Director,” a third time, he went into his office and shut the door. He leaned against the cool glass and took a deep breath.

The words had just slipped out. He hadn’t meant to do it then, but the sight of her messy appearance and clumsy praying mantis-like limbs caused his pulse to speed up.

He also didn’t know if he could also stand the clicking and sniffing for the rest of the day. Something had to be done now.

He moved his keyboard out of the way and placed a clean cloth on the desk. He opened a drawer and took out a stainless steel nail clipper, a new file, and a small tube of cuticle ointment. Next he pulled out a bottle of isopropyl alcohol and went about the process of sterilizing the clippers. He was just finishing when there was a soft knock on the door.

“Come in.”

The door opened and she entered. She stood before him, her eyes down, hands clasped together in front of her.

“Sit.” He gestured to the hard wooden chair that usually sat in front of his desk. He had pulled it behind the desk so it now sat right next to his own chair.

She sat.

He swiveled around so that they faced each other. Then he scooted forward, slipping his knee between her legs—just ever so slightly.

“Give me your hand,” he ordered. 

She did, slipping it into his grasp. The dry slide of skin against skin was electric and his heart raced in response. Without a word, he picked up the clippers and taking her pinky, began to cut its nail, making it shorter, rounder, then he moved on to the next one. For ten minutes, maybe more, he trimmed and manicured her nails in absolute silence—save the sounds of the clippers and the file as it scraped across the ragged tips, smoothing them down. When he was finished, her rubbed the cuticle ointment around her fingertips.

As he stroked her fingers, he watched the blue veins move under her skin. Her hands were so pale. He looked up to see her lips parted, her eyes focused somewhere over his head. He looked back down and quickly finished.

“There,” he said, breaking the silence. “Now you can type without driving me crazy.”

She stood slowly and looked at her hands, fingers splayed. “They look pretty,” she murmured.

“That wasn’t the point!” he snapped.

She glanced up at him. “I know. Thank you, Director.”

Then she bowed and left the room. He heard her sit down at her desk and papers rustling.

Jin Woo threw away the nail file. He was about to empty the nail file of her clippings, when he paused and stared at it distastefully.

“Jung Soo Young-ssi!”

She poked her head in. “Yes?”

“Here.” He held out the nail clipper. “Clean this, they’re your nails, after all.”

“Yes, Director!” She replied as though she were speaking to her commanding officer. “Right away!”

She took the nail clippers and left.

 

He came in the following morning to find the clippers neatly placed on his desk, clean and shining. He picked them up and put them away, not bothering to clean them again.

As the days passed he found himself getting used to having her there. He bought a humidifier and her sniffling stopped. It was almost with regret that he thought about the day Director Lee would return and he’d have to give her back.

 _But she's not yours..._ The demon inside his head snickered.

He ignored it. When it came out it was better not to listen.

He called her into his office one afternoon, motioning her to come around the side of the desk. She stood before him with hands clasped together, eyes turned downward.

He gathered a pile of documents he had signed into a neat stack and handed them to her. “Take these to the sales department.”

She bowed rather forcefully and the top few papers slipped off and floated to the floor.

“Oh! I’m sorry!” she gasped.

She bent over just as he did and their heads cracked together sharply, sending a dull pain through Jin Woo’s head and Soo Young to her knees in front of him, her hands reaching towards him as though she could do something about it.

“Director, are you okay?”

“I’m fine.” He rubbed his forehead. “Just pick up these papers—” he glanced up at the clock. “—I have an appointment in—”

There was a knock on the door and then to his horror, it opened.

“Excuse me, Director Yoo,” Mr. Kim said. “Your secretary was not outside.”

With Soo Young on the floor, if she stood up now, her reputation would be in tatters. He also didn't want to think about what would happen to his, either.

“No problem,” Jin Woo said calmly.

He stood and nudged Soo Young under the desk with his foot. She crawled under and after shaking the man’s hand he sat down, careful not to kick her or step on her fingers.

The meeting went on and on. Almost forty five minutes later, Jin Woo felt her slump against his knees. Pretending to drop his pen, he leaned down and saw that she had fallen asleep, her cheek pressed against his knee, mouth open slightly.  
Somehow it made his chest ache to see her, and it was almost with regret that he turned his attention back to his guest.

His meeting ended after what seemed like an eternity, and it was with the utmost care that he eased his chair backwards. She awoke with a start and looked up at him.

“How was your nap?” It was a failed attempt at a joke and he winced internally.

She panicked and tried to get out, but only succeeded in banging her head on the underside of the desk.

“Slowly!” he admonished as she rubbed her head, eyes squeezed shut.

“Sorry.”

He took her upper arms, and scooting his chair backwards, he helped pull her out from under the desk. Still on her knees, she placed her hands on the chair’s arm rests to brace herself and looked up at him. Her hair was mussed, and it was without thinking he reached up and smoothed it down.

Then he did it again.

And again. Her eyes fluttered shut as he stroked her head.

He stopped and her eyes opened. She didn’t look away, though she blinked. He felt her pulse increase, or perhaps it was his own. He didn’t know where hers began and his ended.

“Director?” she asked in a low voice.

“Yes?” His head felt fuzzy.

“Can you let me up now?”

He blinked. “Oh.” He lifted her to her feet, standing up with her. He took the stack of documents he had retrieved and put them in her hands. “Here.”

“Thank you.”

There was an awkward pause and then she bowed so forcefully her hair flipped over the back of her head and he had to step back to avoid being hit by it.

After she was gone, he sat down and tried to get back to his work—but he was too distracted. Her scent was still in the air, and he kept remembering how soft her hair was.

 

That night he dreamed she came to him, a leather collar affixed around her neck with a small jingling bell. She had soft brown ears and a long fluffy tail that curled around his hand as he stroked her. She flopped over next to him and he fell asleep, his fingers buried in her hair. He woke up before his alarm, convinced she was there next to him, but there was only cold sheets.

 

The report for the Kim contract was lying on his desk for his review. Sipping his cappuccino, he read through it, marking the mistakes one by one with the red pen he saved purely for correcting.

Mistakes always looked better in red. But there were more in this one document than he had ever seen before.

Irritation flowed through him. He didn’t have time for these mistakes. Didn’t she know how they made him look?

He couldn't let it go. She had to be corrected.

He stood up and put his coffee down. He opened the door to his office and looked down at her.

“Jung Soo Young-ssi.”

She looked up at him, eyes wary from the tone of his voice. “Yes, Director?”

He held up the report. “You sent this for my approval.”

“Yes, Director.”

“Come inside.”

She followed him inside. He slammed the paper on his desk, and felt the familiar thrill as she flinched at the noise.

“I have tolerated certain errors in the past, but there are too many mistakes in here that I cannot dismiss. If I sent this off without following up, it would make me look bad; it would make the company look bad. Do you understand?"

“I’m sorry,” she whispered. “I’ll redo it.”

“You have received the basic protocol for company reports.”

“I—Yes. I’m sorry.”

“Then why are you incapable of doing such a simple task?”

She didn’t answer, but looked down at her feet.

She is not yours, she never will be…she will find you disgusting and perverted. Just like all the others.

“Please tell me what I can do.”The words came out a whisper.

"Anything?" He paused. "If not, tell me now."

She looked up at him then, her eyes pleading. "Anything." 

He stared back, his blood pounding in his ears, his mouth dry. “Put your elbows on the desk, palms down.”

Her brows drew together, but she did as she was told, her fingers splayed out delicately.

He walked around behind her. “Now pick up the report and read it out loud.”

She hesitated, but then cleared her throat and began to read.

“Dear, Mr. Kim…”

And that was when he drew back his hand, and spanked her with the flat of his palm. Her firm flesh made a satisfying noise the ripple of impact surging through his arm.

She cut off and turned to stare at him, her eyes wide in shock.

“Again,” he ordered, adrenaline pouring through his muscles like a drug.

She turned back to the report, her voice trembling.

“Dear, Mr. Kim—”

_Slap!_

He spanked her again.

“—I am writing to inform you that the—”

_Slap!_

“—purchase you have made will not be—”

_Slap!_

“—ready until mid-September.”

_Slap!_

“We are sorry for the delay—”

_Slap!_

“If you have any questions, please—”

_Slap!_

“—let me know.  
 _Slap! Slap!_

Sincerely, Director—”

_Slap! Slap! Slap!_

“—Yoo Jin Woo!”

She uttered his name on a whimpered gasp and he collapsed over her, bracing his hands against the desk beside hers, breathing hard. Her hair smelled like roses and sun, and the scent wrapped around him, pink and alive.

But then her pinky slipped over his thumb. It was a gentle, intimate gesture, full of unspoken things, and he froze, his breath catching in his throat. The reality of what he had just done brought him out of the pink haze that had surrounded him and he pulled away.

Shame reared its ugly head and the euphoria was extinguished like water on a lit match. The edges of his control had been frayed, blurred, torn. He had broken the promise he had made to himself.

He straightened his tie, slicked back his hair, and went to his chair and sat down. He looked her in the eye. Her face was flushed and her bangs were sweaty. Her eyes locked onto his, soft and bright, and for the first time, he wondered if she knew who he was.

His stomach clenched and he went cold. “Go collect yourself. Then redo it.”

He watched as she stood up gingerly and smoothed down her skirt. She bowed and left. When he was sure she was gone, he groaned and put his head on his desk.

What was he doing?

He immediately opened his laptop and began to type out an email.

_I’m sorry. I don’t know why I’m like this._

He stared at the blinking cursor and then slammed the laptop shut without sending it.

He peered at her through the blinds of his office window. She was writing the report again, one leg tucked up under her thigh. She shifted, a wince of pain crossing her face. She didn’t leave until she had sent him the re-typed report.

When he came to work the following morning, she greeted him as usual, but there was something different about her and she wouldn’t stop looking at him. He could practically feel the energy radiating off of her, and it was with relief he was able to close the door between them. If she could stare at him all day, he would never be able to work.

She never mentioned what had occurred between them, and he was half agony, half relieved for it. There was a small part of him that wanted her to recognize him, but he felt ashamed of what he wanted, and it had taken years of quashing his desire and perfecting his control for him to be where he was.

Therein lay his tragedy.

Still, he could not stop, or maybe _wouldn't_ was a better word. She was there at every turn, wishing to please, accepting the punishment for her mistakes. She seemed to bloom. Her back was straighter, her gaze steadier.

Of course, she was still clumsy, but that trait became endearing in a way he had never been able to tolerate before. Sometimes he would tie her hands and make her brew and pour his coffee while bound. He started telling her what to eat and how much—a sandwich for lunch, but only half, all the meat she could want, but no rice—and she embraced it with an eagerness that both intrigued and frightened him.

In a moment of fear and weakness, he sent her the email he had typed up the first time he had ever laid his hand on her. He waited for her response but it never came. This did not relieve him, but made him more determined to stop.

She continued to make mistakes, and he started to ignore them. He could see the frustration in her face when he treated her as he would anyone else, responding mildly to her mistakes and her requests.

Then he came in one afternoon to find a dead cockroach folded up in a piece of paper waiting for him on his desk.

 

He stared at it until his eyes unfocused and his cheeks flushed hot. Trembling, he placed the paper and the dead bug in the middle of the desk, and taking out his red pen, he circled it frantically, hoping to find the release he sought so desperately.

That release never came.

He could not accept this, he could not let her get the better of him. He had to prove her wrong, and then the network of carefully constructed threads of self-control and discipline collapsed completely.

Hands clenched in fists, he opened his office door. Soo Young looked up at him, the anticipation he felt reflected in her eyes.

“Soo Young-ssi, come in here and lock the door behind you.”

She followed him in and stood before him, her lips parted, eyes bright. The first thing he noticed was that she was wearing heels. They were a soft cream colored leather paired with light blue ankle socks trimmed in lace. He let his gaze travel up, taking in her dress, pink and prim, with its Peter Pan collar and wide skirt. Her hair was down, and though she wore no makeup, her skin glowed. He began to undo his tie and watched her breaths quicken with every pull.

“Lean over the desk.”

She followed his orders without hesitation. As she bent over, her skirt rode up slightly, exposing the backs of her knees. He took a few lengths of silk ribbon out of the top of his desk drawer and bound her ankles, making sure it was tight enough that she couldn’t get out, but not so tight as to cut off circulation. Then he took his tie and, covered her mouth, tying it behind her head. Lastly, he bound her wrists behind her back with more ribbon, the backs of her hands together, palms facing out. When he was done, he let his hands slide down her waist to her hips, where then he knelt down on one knee and placed his cheek against the curve of her backside. He heard her intake of breath, felt it with his entire body as her lungs expanded. He let his fingers slid down to the hem of her skirt and touched the backs of her knees.

She made a muffled noise and jerked. As he traced his fingertips up her thigh, he encountered a run in her stockings. Digging his fingers into the fishbone patterned rip, he pulled. The sound of tearing cloth only fueled his desire to dominate her and he felt himself grow hard.

As he snaked his hand under the torn cloth, he placed his lips to the bare skin of her thigh. Higher and higher he reached until he brushed the sensitive area between her legs.

She cried out through the tie as he gently caressed her and then pulled his fingers away. Again and again, until she was writhing.

His cheek against her thigh, she smelled of sunshine and her own intimate scent; clean and pure, yet slightly earthy—like petrichor—and he whispered it into her skin and felt the tiny hairs rise as they reacted to his breath on her skin.

He wanted her, oh how he wanted her! More than anything!

He wrenched himself away from her, realizing how dangerous the water he was treading was, and if he went much further, it was likely he would drown. He had already gone too far.

Abruptly he stood up, and taking her arms, pulled her up so that her feet were on the floor. He took a pair of scissors from the holder and swiftly cut the ribbon that bound her ankles. She turned to him, staring.

_Snip._

The ribbon fell from her hands and they fell limply to her sides. Setting the scissors down, he reached up behind her head and untied his tie. It fell away from her mouth, damp with saliva and tears, and she stared up at him, her forehead wrinkled in confusion, lips trembling, cheeks flushed.

“Go home,” he said sharply.

Then he sat at his desk and tuned on his laptop. She stood there for a few moments, shivering, and then turned and left, shutting the door quietly on her way out. He waited until her desk lamp was out and he was sure she was gone.

He put his face in his hands and slumped down in his chair.

She had accepted his hand without fear or judgment, and even more, she welcomed it. She wanted it, thrived upon it. He couldn’t stand to see her that way--thriving under his domineering hand. He knew it was wrong and he had let it go too far. Something had to be done.

It was nearly morning before he made the decision to terminate their relationship.

 

He heard her come in and stop, her voice asking the women at her desk what was going on.

“He doesn’t need you any longer,” the woman said in a bored voice. “He’s hired a new secretary. A permanent one. You are welcome to return to your other job.”

There was a pause.

“I see.” He heard the confusion and pain in her trembling voice and it hurt his heart. “Thank you.”

Her shoes clicked on the floor as she walked away, and with each step, Jin Woo could feel his heart getting heavier and heavier, even as another part of him cried out in relief that things were going back to normal, to the safety of what was familiar and not messy.

He was just about to pour his morning cup of tea when there was the sound of someone running outside the office. He heard his new secretary protest and then Soo Young burst into his office, eyes flashing with anger and determination.

He spilled the tea, startled at her appearance.

“Soo Young-si! What are you doing?”

“What are you doing?” she demanded, her voice loud.

The new secretary tried to get by her, making small noises of protest, but Soo Young shut the door in her face and locked it. He stared at her in shock.

She turned back to him. “Why?”

“Why what?”

“Why did you fire me?” She scoffed incredulously. “Again?”

“I hired a new secretary,” he answered calmly, though inside he was nothing but. “We both knew you couldn’t be here forever.”

She lifted her chin defiantly. “Why not?”

He looked up from his spilled tea and stared at her. “Because you are not a secretary. And your behavior—”

“My behavior! What about your behavior?”

Unable to look at her any longer, he sat down and swiveled his chair away from her. He sat there for a long time.

“You have to go or I won’t stop.”

“Then don’t.”

He balked. “I can’t do this anymore.”

She slowly walked up behind him, her voice soft and gentle. “But I want to know you.”Then she touched him, her fingers threading through his hair.

For a moment he let himself relax into her caress, letting her touch the vulnerable part of him he had tried so hard to keep hidden.

Then he pulled away, the warmth of her fingers gone. “I am sorry for what occurred between us.” His voice trembled. “I realize what a mistake it was.”

She was silent.

“Get out,” he ordered wanting her as far away from him as possible.

When she didn’t move, he got up and strode over to the door. Opening it, he turned back to her.

“Get out!”

When she still didn’t move, he walked over and firmly guided her out, his hand pressed on the middle of her back. She stood there as the new woman stared at them with wide eyes, not knowing what to do. She turned back and looked at him, tears falling freely down her cheeks.

As he shut the door in her tearful face, he felt himself shatter into little pieces all over his immaculate floor.

As the days passed, Jin Woo felt relieved at the return of his normal pattern. If he hadn’t checked with HR, he would have assumed Soo Yuung quit the company, because he never saw her. But she had returned to her previous job. Sometimes he thought he saw the back of her head turning a corner, but when he looked closely it never was, and he wondered how he could possibly have mistaken another woman for her.

His coworkers knew something was wrong because they were always asking about his health and trying to shove medicine at him. Then somehow the truth about his parentage got out and they stopped. He could feel their gazes on his back when he passed and hear their whispers about his father and mother. Judgment and scrutiny of the “bastard” made his already fragile self-esteem come dangerously close to crumbling completely.

Then, a few months later he heard the news that Soo Young was getting married to a man she had been reacquainted with through a blind date, someone she had known from high school. His name was So Jin Soo and he was an accountant.

An accountant. How unbelievably awful.

The jealously that burst within him burned hot and then was gone, leaving nothing in its place. His body had already learned how to cope with pain.

He was so preoccupied, he didn't even notice when his father came in.

"Jin Woo," came his stern voice, breaking through the jumble of confusing thoughts in his head. He looked up in surprise.

"Father?"

He looked extremely tired and to Jin Woo's utter dismay, a little broken. He didn't know what to think about that.

His father cleared his throat and sat down. "I've heard you...ah...aren't doing well."

Jin Woo could only stare at him, which made his father very uncomfortable.

"I just wanted to say, you need to do what you need to do."

Jin Woo blinked.

"No one else will do it for you." And with that, he got to his feet and left, leaving Jin Woo flustered and confused.

He went home and made dinner, but he couldn’t eat. His appetite was gone. He drank a bottle of wine and woke up on Saturday to a headache.

He went into work to distract himself from the emptiness that filled him, but he couldn’t focus on anything. No matter what, he couldn’t stop seeing Soo Young’s tearful face as he closed the door.

Now she was getting married.

 _Why do you care?_ The demon inside his mind asked. _It was you who sent her away, after all..."_

He had pushed her away.

The few employees that had straggled in to finish work finally left and he decided to force himself to get something done.

He was reworking a proposal that needed editing when his office door opened, and Soo Young burst through. Her hair was up, but coming down, the escaped tendrils floating around her face. And she was wearing a full length formal dress that swirled and flowed around her limbs in such an organic way, it was as though it were part of her. It was covered in sequins that sparkled in the light when she moved.

She looked like a goddess made of starlight.

“I have something to say to you.”

She looked him directly in the eye and said in a clear voice,

“I love you.

He stood in shock, his breath catching in his throat. “Soo Young—”

“I love you.”

He searched her earnest face. “You only think you do.”

“You’re wrong."

And the way she looked at him, he knew she believed it.

“We can’t do this twenty four hours a day, seven days a week.”

“Why not?” She challenged, tilting her chin up obstinately.

He had no answer to that and she knew it. He could only watch her as she moved to his desk, sat down, and stared up at him, daring him to rise to the challenge she was placing before him.

After a long moment of silence, he said, “Put your hands on the desk, palms down.”

Her mouth twisted up into a smile that could only be called triumphant.

“Keep your feet on the floor until I come back.”

Then he grabbed his coat, heart thumping in his chest, and left. He shut the door and let out a deep breath he hadn’t been aware he’d been holding, slumping against the door.

He had never expected her to come back like this, storming into his space like a vengeful goddess, demanding his attention. She had shaken him to his very core. All that he had tried to avoid came rushing into his mind like a wave, and he knew he could no longer ignore the truth. She had pried him open, baring his heart to her tender touch. The vulnerability he had tried so hard to keep locked up, to hide away where it couldn’t be found was in her gentle hands. She had run right in, exposing the raw parts of him, touching him with a softness he had never known from anyone, except from his mother. Even as he was cruel and demanding, she responded to him.

He found it intolerable that she could thrive in hands such as his—and yet she did.

Lost in his thoughts, he went down to a café where he stared at his coffee and pastry, hardly touching either of them. He went back up to his office and peeked through a gap in the blinds.  
She was still there, hands on the desk, feet on the floor.

Taking out his cell phone, he called his office phone to see what she would do. As it rang, she stared at it a moment, then tried to pick it up with her teeth. He hung up just as she got a grip on it. He sat down at his secretary’s desk and leaned back in the chair.

 _What are you going to do?_ The demon asked, genuinely curious. He mulled it over for a few more minutes and then it came to him.

Her fiancée.

He Googled the man’s name and his work, and dialed the number he found. Luckily, it was his cell.

“Hello?”

“You’re fiancée is at work, sitting in my office right now.”

“Who is this?”

Jin Woo ignored him. “Fifth floor, right side of the building”

“Is this Director Yoo?” His voice was angry.

Jin Woo didn’t answer, and then was a string of curse words and the phone went dead.

Then he sat and waited. When he heard the elevator doors ding, he hid around the corner of his office and watched as So Jin Soo stormed through the door.

He was a tall man, thin and handsome, though a tad…messy for Jin Woo’s taste. Everything about him looked slightly out of place—except for his tux, and although it sat strangely on his shoulders as though it didn’t want to be there, it was excellently tailored.

“Oh.” Her voice was tinged with disappointment.

Jin Soo let out an aggrieved sigh. “What are you doing, Soo Young-ssi?”

“I already told you. I'm not going to marry you. I'm sorry.”

“Why? This is about Director Yoo, isn’t it?”

She still said nothing, so he walked around the desk and frowned at her.

“Is what you’re doing…something sexual?”

Jin Woo watched as she turned to him, a stunned expression on her face. “Does this look sexual to you?”

Jin Soo threw his hand up in the air. “I don’t know! I can’t understand anything you do! Why won’t you move your hands?”

“Because I don’t want to.”

JIn Woo felt a smile turn up the corner of his lips.

Suddenly, Jin Soo grabbed Soo Young by the waist and hauled her out of the chair.

“No!” She kicked out with her legs, hitting him with her fists, and just when Jin Woo thought he would have to intervene, she kicked Jin Soo between his legs, sending him onto the floor where he curled up in agony.

Jin Woo watched her run back to the chair where she sat and slammed her hands back down on the desk. 

“You know you’re sick.” Jin Soo said, his voice bitter and angry. “All of this is really sick.”

“Jin Soo-ssi.” Soo Young’s voice rang out clearly. “This is _my_ life, and I’m going to live it the way _I_ want to. Now go and do the same.”

Jin Soo’s eyes were so wide they bugged out of his head.

“Go!”

With a shake of his head and a sneer of disgust, Jin Soo turned and walked out, slamming the door behind him. Jin Woo came out and watched him stomp down the hall to the elevator where he pounded on the buttons, muttering to himself.

Once he was gone, Jin Woo went down to his car. He sat there for hours, her words about living her life as she wanted to echoing in his head. His father had essentially said the same thing. Why was he the only one who was so afraid? The conflict inside him finally took its toll, and exhausted, he fell asleep.

He woke up with a start, not knowing what time it was, or even what day. There were no other cars in the garage, so he assumed it was only Sunday. His relief was short lived when he remembered why he was here. Heart pounding, he made his way up to his office, where he stood outside, his hand on the door knob, willing himself to enter, fighting the urge to give into the fear and run away.

He took a deep breath and turned the handle.

She was right where he had left her, but passed out, her head on the table, mouth open slightly. She had obeyed. Not because she had to, but because she wanted to.  
He gently placed his hand on her hair, feeling its softness under his fingertips.

She was absolutely glorious.

“Soo Young-ssi,” he said softly, stroking the ridge of her ear. “Soo Young-ah.”

She slowly opened her eyes and looked up into his. “Yoo Jin Woo,” she croaked out his name, her voice dry. “You came.”

“Yes.”

He went to the fridge and got out a bottle of water. Lifting her head, he placed it to her lips so she could drink. When she had enough, he knelt beside her so they were at eye level.

“Why?” he asked, his voice barely above a whisper.

She reached out and brushed his cheek with her fingertips. “Because you’re you. And I found me.”

He closed his eyes and lingered in her hand’s embrace, her thumb stroking the sensitive skin under his eye.

“Will you come home with me?” He asked, opening his eyes.

She nodded. So he gathered her up in his arms and carried her down to his car, despite her protests that she could walk. He knew that, but he wanted to carry her. He liked the feel of her weight, and the way her arms wrapped around his neck, the way her breasts pushed against his chest, warm and firm. 

She nodded off while he drove, and he couldn’t help but glance at her every few seconds. Her dress had slipped off one shoulder exposing her collarbone and a peek of her breast.

“Keep it together,” he whispered to himself, trying to keep his eye on the road.

She was still asleep when he brought her up to his apartment and lay her on his bed. He began running a bath, and found towels for her. His bathrobe was clean, so he hung it on the back of the door for her. Just as he was turning off the water, she came up behind him, rubbing her eyes, smearing her already smeared mascara all over her cheek.

“Is this for me?”

He gestured to the door. “I hung a bathrobe up for you. It’s clean.”

She turned her back to him and he walked to the door. He chanced a look behind him and found her struggling with the zipper on the back of her dress, her arm twisted up, but still unable to reach it.

Without thinking, he went to her and brushing her hair out of the way, grasped the zipper. There was an intake of breath, but she didn’t move as he pulled it down. It went all the way down to her hips, but he resisted the temptation, and left it where she could reach, in the middle of her back.

She turned looked up at him through her lashes, cheeks pink. “Thank you.”

He swallowed and nodded, then left, shutting the door behind him. He took a deep breath and went into the kitchen where he made rice and mild soup. He was setting out the side dishes when she came out, clad in his bathrobe, her hair loose around her shoulders.

He didn’t realize he was staring until she coughed. He felt hot as he pulled out a chair for her and went to get spoons.

She ate only a little soup, but all her rice. He knew she was probably starving, not haven eaten for a day, and when they finished, she immediately got more water.

When she was finished, he took the glass from her hands and set it down on the table. She looked up at him.

“When I first saw you, it was in a movie theater.”

His brows lifted in surprise.

“We were watching Serendipity, and you were alone. You cried”

Jin Woo felt his cheeks heat up. “You…were there?”

She nodded. “It’s one of my favorite films. It was only a coincidence that I started working at the same company as you. I thought it was fate.”

He searched her eyes, looking for anger or disappointment, but there was only softness and love.

She tilted her head and smiled tenderly. “It was…after all.”

Taking her face between his hands, he gently placed a kiss on her brow. Then he bent down and kissed her smooth jaw. Slowly he moved up, his lips brushing her cheek as they made their way to her lips, where he hovered, not giving in. Every time she strained towards him, he pulled back just enough that she couldn’t reach. She whimpered and he placed his thumb over her lips, cutting off the sound. With his other hand, he touched her collarbone, stroking it gently.

Then he bit it—just a little bit—which elicited a cry from deep within her that made the surge of power that flowed through him that much more satisfying.

He pulled the robe down off her shoulder and let his hand slip under it, finding her soft breast with its erect nipple. She was panting, making these little moaning noises that made him hard with desire.

“Soo Young-ah,” he whispered against her mouth. “I’m going to make love to you now.”

He picked her up and took her into his bedroom. Setting her down on the bed, he kneeled over her and slowly undid her robe. She never took her eyes off him, even as she blushed in embarrassment. For the longest time he just looked at her, letting his gaze roam her body. When it became too much for her, she reached up and tried to unbutton his shirt, but he pushed her hands away.

“No,” he murmured. “Let me.”

She tried it again, and that was when he pinned her wrists to the bed.

“I said no.” But his voice was gentle and she responded by lifting her hips to his. He gasped, and that was when she kissed him. He let her have that one kiss, and then he took the back control.

Pressing her hands against the bed, lacing their fingers together, he kissed her deeply. Over and over again, until she was gasping for breath, and he felt as though he would explode with want.

Sitting back on his knees, he began to unbutton his shirt, watching her watch him. When he moved to his trousers, she met his gaze, and didn’t take her eyes from his until he was completely naked before her.

“You’re so beautiful.”

He stared at her in confusion. “Men aren’t beautiful.”

“You are.”

Not knowing what to say, he leaned down and took her breast into his mouth, effectively ending the conversation.

Kissing his way down her belly, he grasped her knees and pulled them apart, bending forward to kiss the most intimate place on her body. She jerked when he put his tongue there, taking her into his mouth. She reached down flailing, searching for his hands. He found them and gently thread his fingers through hers.

She tasted as he thought she would, sweet and musky, like dust and sunshine. She moaned and whimpered, clamping his head between her legs. He grabbed her thighs and continued until she came again, and then again, finally letting her go when she was limp, unable to hold herself any longer.

He crawled up between her legs and she touched him, her hands brushing across his chest, moving down, down, until she had him in her hands, her fingers circling the sensitive tip.

He moaned and she stared up at him, eyes wide. He leaned down and kissed her against the pulsing skin of her neck.

Slowly, achingly, he pushed into her, and she made a noise from her that sent shivers through him. Her insides clenched and released around him, tight and then soft.

As he began to move, an expression of discomfort crossed her face.

“Are you alright?” He asked breathlessly.

“Yes, I just—I’ve never had sex before.”

“What? Why didn’t you say anything?” He felt shocked and dismayed, but when he tried to pull away, she stopped him.

“No, no, it doesn’t hurt! It's just different.”

He searched her face to see if she were lying, but she was staring at him so earnestly, he stayed where he was.

“Tell me what you want.” He grasped her hand and took her pointer finger into his mouth and sucked.

She whimpered and her hips lifted, bring him deeper into her.

“What do you want?” he repeated, pinning her hand over her head and stroking the soft underside of her breast with his tongue.

“I want you to move—oh!”

He rolled his hips against hers, thrusting himself into her—not too hard, but not slow anymore.

She clung to him, moving her hands over his face, in his hair, digging her nails into his backside with each thrust. She kissed him, her tongue in his mouth. Overwhelmed and wanting to feel her closer, he lifted her onto his knees and held her close against him as he moved within her. He felt her heart pound against his and the sweat from his skin mix with hers as she whispered that she felt like stars were exploding inside her.

He tasted the salt of her tears and knew his demon had found its lover.

He lay her back on the bed and looking into her shining eyes, he came inside her, murmuring her name.

“Soo Young-ah, Soo Young-ah.”

She cried out and lay shuddering beneath him. He rolled over, pulling her with him, holding her close while their breathing slowed.

“Marry me,” he said suddenly. “Tomorrow.”

She lifted her head and searched his face a moment and then nodded. “I will.”

“Good.” He pulled her back down and they lay there in each other’s arms until the sun disappeared behind the horizon, darkness overtaking the earth.

So they did, registering their marriage the following day at City Hall. Then they drove out to the woods and rented a cabin. Jin Woo took his vacation days and Soo Young called in sick. No one knew they were together, no one even suspected.

The second time they made love, it was up against a tree while she was bound to it, her wedding dress around her thighs, back moving against the rough bark every time he thrust into her, hard and fast.

The third time it was on the bed, slow and languid, buried under a cloud of high thread count sheets and a down comforter, a fire crackling in the fireplace. He held her close, stroking her flushed cheek, brushing her damp hair off her forehead. Her lips, swollen from his kisses, were parted and her pupils dilated as she stared at him.

“I’m going to love you every day of my life,” he murmured into her hair. “And beyond that. In each life I will return and find you.”

“I will wait for you,” she replied. “Every time.”

He knew she would. Kissing her lightly, he closed his eyes. “Thank you for finding me, Soo Young-ah. Thank you for loving me.”

She merely sighed and snuggled closer. The rain pattered on the roof, dripping down the windows to the dust. Tomorrow the sunshine would come out and the scent of petrichor would fill the air.

There were times when it was soft and tender, there were times it was rough and filled exquisite pain, but in all there was a beauty that they alone were witness to, and for that they needed no one's approval but their own.

Jin Woo would always think of her after the rain, and then their demons would come out to play.

끝


End file.
